Interlude 2: It's Good to be the King
by Kage Mirai
Summary: Alastair decided Sam needed a new job, one better suited to his skills. Sure, the young demon took to torture well but he wasn't working to his full potential, that was about to change. Sequel to Interlude 1: Whatever Happened to Jimmy Novak Alastair/Dean/Sam


Disclaimer: I do not own nor make money off of writing this. I just play in the world of Supernatural.

-Alastair-

Things were falling into place quite nicely. Crowley was behaving after fifty years of torture, he had been used as a training aide for new torturers on how to deal with stubborn subjects. Sam and Dean had learned that they had other responsibilities aside from cavorting with angels. That Castiel was a piece of work, the angel had fallen for the brothers and fallen hard. He had even implemented a few of Crowley's ideas, mainly for the masochists that came down. The newer torturers just didn't have the same finesse. The souls would wait in line until someone competent could get to them. This could be anywhere from a few minutes to centuries and of course there was never a front of the line. Even for his good ideas Crowley was not back in his good graces. It would be a long time before he was let off his leash. Trust was hard to earn but easy to lose and Crowley had stomped all over his gift of self governance. He had finally gotten through the build up of paperwork, had even taken a few souls to work on. They must have felt so fortunate to be chosen by him.

Now that there was a lull in issues he wanted to have a little fun. Sam had taken quite well to torture but Alastair felt as though he had other talents and potential he could exploit. He was good but not as good as Dean. The elder Winchester was a natural at extracting information and obedience, Sam had to work for it. Alastair much preferred that everyone work at peak efficiency. If it wouldn't cut into his time with his brother Sam might be very good at sales, he could be quite the negotiator, but that would involve putting him with Crowley. Dean would also object to how they seal deals and he couldn't have a jealous Dean, he might kill the humans before their time. Researcher and advisor, he could work through some of the paper work as well. If he wanted to still torture he could, he was good at it after all, but Sam would do better this way.

He moved through the halls, heading for Dean's workroom. The brothers were in hell for awhile after he had removed Castiel from his vessel. Dean was still trying to teach Sam the subtle nuances of a drawn out question and torture session, so the screams and pleas for help were to be expected. There was a particularly loud scream before silence as he opened the door. Dean was standing over the rack, whispering into a woman's ear. She was sobbing and shaking, blue eyes nearly empty in her grief and pain. Sam stood to the side, watching as Dean worked.

"How long have you been working on her?" He questioned, moving inside, looking her over. She was covered in blood, her tears leaving streaks through it.

Sam looked thoughtful as Dean continued to whisper to her, "Five days, thirteen hours, and twenty-eight minutes."

"I'm impressed, Dean, such a quick break." He looked at Sam, "I have a new job for you, one I think you'll be better suited to with your skill set. If you still want to torture that will remain open to you but I have something better in mind."

"What's that?"

Dean was ignoring them, far too engrossed in his work. Alastair moved over to Sam, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, "Come, let us talk, leave Dean to his work." He guided him out of the room, Dean oblivious to the departure of his audience.

"What do you want to talk about?"

"I think you deserve a change in scenery. I know torture isn't your favorite thing and I was working to think of something you might enjoy a little more."

Sam cocked his head to the side, "Doing what?"

"Being my advisor and head researcher. I find myself in need of an assistant and you are very well qualified for it." He led Sam into his office, "I'm afraid I'm not cut out for paper work, I cannot seem to get through it in a timely manner. With your skills I'm sure you could be more productive and it would allow you to utilize what you're best at."

"I'd like that, just let me know what you want me to do."

He pulled out the chair behind his desk, "First I want you to sit, we need to work on boosting your power. I haven't given you as much as Dean." Sam sat with Alastair standing behind him. He slowly drew a blade over his wrist, "Drink."

Sam took the offered wrist, wrapping his lips around it and sucking, lapping at the wound, trying to catch every last drop. Alastair stroked his hair, keeping his wrist firmly in place, urging no him to keep drinking. Sam was much easier to coax into a prolonged drink than Dean was. It wasn't a fight to keep him there. His previous addiction to demon blood was a boon in that account. He let him continue drinking until he saw a flash of yellow in his eyes. Sam was panting and gasping when he pulled away, eyes half lidded.

"I've never drank that much before." He licked a stray drop from his lips.

Alastair smiled down at him, sliding his hands down his chest, "Someone looks quite...happy."

Sam blushed, the tenting in his pants obvious, "Want to help me with it?"

"Perhaps I could be inclined to do something about your problem, however, we need to have a lesson first." He pulled back and the young demon groaned. He pulled out a thick ledger, setting it on the desk, "Feel free to reorganize. I shall teach you the language and help at first, beyond that it's all you. Of course you and Dean will still be given time topside to do whatever pleases you." He opened it, the binding creaking softly, "The crossroads demons keep impeccable records, at least most of them do, however they do not properly organize them. This book contains information on all the souls that have come in to date. It is easy to maintain now, only a few minutes at the end of day to record the day's take. I will show you to the library I maintain later. I want you to familiarize yourself with everything you can, you get to be the voice of reason, Sammy. There is plenty to do in the running of hell." He made him tip his head back, bringing their lips together slowly, "For now I am going to enjoy one of the perks of being King." He kissed him slowly, deep and possessive.

Sam moaned, arching back in the chair, parting his lips to accept the king's tongue. Alastair gripped his hair firmly, holding him in place. His fingers gripped at the arms of the chair. His eyes fluttering closed as Alastair's fingers slid down his chest. The elder demon tore through his shirt, using the blade to slice it off. He wanted to feel the hunter's skin, to mark him up, to claim him. He would brand the younger Winchester with a different mark than his brother. Dean was his partner but Sam was his assistant. He pulled back slowly, lapping at his lips.

"I'm going to mark you, Sammy. Don't move a muscle."

Sam was limp and panting in the chair when he returned with a bowl of blood and his favorite blade. Without a word he closed the book, moving it off to the side, before setting the bowl down.

"Don't you only mark your partner?" He questioned, eyeing the bowl.

"No." He dipped the blade in, watching the crimson cover silver, "Marks are for possession, you are mine, aren't you Sam?" He asked, watching a bead of blood drip back into the bowl. He nodded, eyes locked on the blade, "You don't want some low level demon trying to take you, do you?" He shook his head, "Then you require a mark."

He began to cut, slicing into his right pectoral. Sam screamed, fingers gripping tightly to the chair. He could hear the wood splintering as he carved, his blood merging into the young demon, branding him indelibly. He had just finished when Dean came in, his partner was covered in blood. He held his free hand up, motioning for Dean to wait and be silent as he finished the last line.

Dean crossed his arms over his chest, "I was wondering where you'd gone off to."

Alastair turned, giving him a kiss before speaking, "Sam required a job to make use of his skills, I've given him one." He paused, "I also recalled that I hadn't marked him, no wonder Crowley thought he was still up for grabs."

Dean moved over to where Sam was seated, the young Winchester was panting softly, his pectoral a mass of black swirls that undulated when Dean reached out to touch them, "Ink looks good on you Sammy." He kissed him, smiling against his lips, "Did he leave you all worked up?" He grinned down at the trapped length.

"Yes and you'd both better take care of it. No way am I doing any work when I'm horny."

Dean chuckled reaching down and freeing him, "So demanding, Sammy."

Alastair resumed his place behind Sam, threading his fingers through his hair, pulling his head back slowly, "Relax, we will take care of everything." He kissed him deeply, rolling their tongues together slowly.

Dean wrapped his fingers around his length, stroking him slowly while Alastair claimed his mouth. Sam let his eyes fall closed, his hips rolling up against Dean, his tongue rubbing beneath Alastair's. Sam could feel his brother's fingers breach him, two fingers rocking deep inside, rubbing against his spot. He rocked his hips up, moaning against Alastair's mouth. Sam tasted wonderful, sulfur and blood and a little tinge of fleeting humanity. Dean wrapped his lips around his length, swallowing him in. Alastair helped him up, making sure that Dean wasn't dislodged from his prize. He gently removed Dean's fingers, replacing them with his own length. He didn't give the young demon a chance to adjust, rolling his hips in deeply, taking him with deep, smooth strokes. Dean was making lewd noises as he sucked and swallowed, as Alastair forced him down Dean's throat.

The king controlled the pace, gripping tight to Sam's hips for added control. He bit and nipped at his neck and shoulders, pounding into him deeply. Dean made small sounds in the back of his throat as Sam was thrust forward a final time. Alastair could feel Sam clench around him as he came. He smirked down at him, hadn't found release yet, Dean was still in need of relief and he would oblige him.

"Dean, come take a ride." He sat down in his chair, patting Sam's hip.

Dean pulled back, licking his lips. He straddled the elder demon, gripping tight to his shoulders as he was slowly impaled. Sam laid limp over the desk, basking in the afterglow. He stroked Dean's hips, smirking darkly at him. His hips rotated up as the yellow eyed demon pressed down to meet him.

"Damn, fuck me already!"

"Hush, I'll get to it." He snapped up, pressing into his spot, starting to take him quick and hard.

Dean writhed so beautifully in his lap, his hips rotating, clenching over him tightly, urging him to find his release, "Come on! Come for me." He growled, demanding.

Alastair moaned, "You first." He hissed, biting into his throat.

He keened lowly, coming hard as Alastair gave a final thrust filling him up. They groaned, collapsing against each other. Sam finally slid off the desk, grinning at them, "Good boys."

Dean gave him the finger, resting his head on Alastair's shoulder, "Bitch."

"Jerk."

Alastair smirked, petting down Dean's spine, "It's good to be the king."

A/N: I've already started work on Part 5 of the series, it will be titled "Of Bogs and Men". Find me on tumblr: .com


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